Bloodied Nails
by World Yeeter
Summary: What happens when the most bloodthirsty being next to the Blood God himself gets McGuffined into a world of innocent pint-sized horses? Find out, and explore Warp Theory along the way!


**The Meaning of Blood**

**Author's Note**

_"__I wanna Baja Blast my brains out."_

This is a 40K and pony fanfic because I want to murder cute things in my dreams. This won't go the way you expect, and will be using the Hearts of Iron IV mod "Equestria at War" for geographical details, a timeline of events, and for some character ideas. Obviously uses 40K and anything from it's universe, but do expect Horus Heresy spoilers as well. I hope you can forgive me for what I have brought upon this accursed land.

**Chapter One**

"Duality"

Khârn sat upon his very own throne of skulls. He had just got finished with the slaughter an entire Slaaneshi Pleasure Planet, for the Blood God. I mean, who wouldn't want to murder an entire orgy's population? Fucking degenerates man. Also, their skulls make for good ornaments.

Khârn did not rest, as most traitor legionnaires never did, but every World Eater knows this is for a different reason; the Butcher's Nails. After being reunited with their Primarch, Angron, the Astartes of the XII had been implanted with copies of his very own nails. The Nails removed their host's emotions, save for solace and anything associated with hate and anger. The Nails ticked when the implantee was not in the thick of slaughter; they tick, tick, tick, inside the implantee's brain. This will get worse over time until they lash out in a bloodlust massacre of anything nearby, lost to the nails in a hell storm of adrenaline and fury. After the bloodletting, there was clarity and solace, and this is what Khârn was experiencing.

Khârn hated- well, what was left of him, anyways, hated what the Nails had made him. What his Primarch had made him. He didn't even choose to betray the Imperium; he wanted to keep his brothers united, to maybe reverse the Nail's effects. Even that was taken from him. He lost one of his few true "friends" with the death of Argel Tal upon Nuceria. Now, he only had enemies of variable degree.

As Khârn slipped into what miserable excuse for sleep the Nails allowed, he heard a scream of utter vitriol; "I'LL KILL EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU LOYALIST SCUM! MEET YOUR DEATH, COUS-", followed by a death howl. Khârn knew it was Khorne Berzerker, a crude copy of himself, and that there was an Imperial presence here.

The Nails ticked. Tick, tick, tick. The adrenaline began pumping. Khârn's vision blurred into a tunnel as he ran towards his great hall's doors. He through them in a violent crash, Gorechild rattling with maniacal mechanical laughter. He was greeted with the sight of… Astartes? Terminators? Whatever; Khorne cares not from where blood flows, SO LONG AS IT FLOWS!

"Come on then you silver armored sissies, I'LL CUT YOU IN HALF!" Khârn leapt forward at the first one, Gorechild meeting a force sword in a furious explosion of sparks and metal. Khârn overpowered the Astartes, who was chanting some sort of spell or prayer. Gorechild made a pass through his neck, spraying a dirt-mud mix and severing his head. "SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE!" Khârn continued, moving faster than any living champion of the Imperium, his reflexes only further strengthened by the blood god's blessing.

It was sudden. His tunnel vision prevented his sight from seeing the other terminator crashing into his side, "WE ARE THE HAMMER!", the Astartes cried. They bound Khârn with terrible magicks that stunk of Word Bearers… especially that damnable chaplain!

"Lady Inquisitor, we have the champion restrained. We can banish him to the deepest depths of the warp!"

A female in what looked like that sisterhood's carapace armor, in all white and flowing blonde hair, walked up to Khârn with some distance between them. "Kill me already you magical whore! SPILL MY BLOOD! THE NAILS CALL FOR BLOODSHED, AND KHORNE FOR YOUR SKULLS!" Khârn screamed at the woman. The Nails' ticking got worse, causing him to cringe behind his faceplate of ancient ceramite.

"Shut up, traitor. I've hunted you for half a century, and now I'm going to punish you for crimes against Mankind!" The woman spat back at him. She began chanting a litany of fury, when a squad of Alpha Legionnaires revealed themselves. The Alpha Legion gunned down the squad of silver astartes terminators, and speared the inquisitor with a power javelin.

"WHO IS TAKING MY BLOOD?! I'LL HAVE YOUR'S WHEN I GET LOOSED FROM THESE BOUNDS!" Khârn was screaming, the Nails scraping across his mind. The Alpha Legion then cast a spell that warped him into a black plain.

"Huh, guess Eliphas was right. If we spilled the blood of six psykers, we'd warp someone out of this dimension! That'll show those Khornates for burning my favorite library down!"

Khârn had no mouth, but he must scream. This void he was trapped took the wind out of him. He felt as though he was travelling, had inertia through this plain. The Nails… weren't ticking. He felt… calm? Normal? He felt like he had just came out of a moment lost to the Nails. He closed his eyes for a moment, and opened them to see an open field of green, and a blue sky. Was this… a paradise?

"HI THERE!" screeched a banshee of a voice, whose home was a pink… beast whose mane looked of fresh brain matter.

Then the Nails ticked.

**Author's Message to the Reader**

If you read that, tell me what you think! I want to be an author someday, so why not start with writing fanfiction? I like the idea of short stories for starting endeavors, and this setting allows for it.


End file.
